


If I could only forget

by Craftybadger1234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Depression, Hand Jobs, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Panic Attacks, Semi-Public Sex, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234
Summary: A class accident leaves Harry with no memory of anybody. Including a beautiful blond boy everyone hates, but Harry wants anyway.





	If I could only forget

“Harry, I don’t think you should be going off on your own.” Hermione glared at him with hands on hips. 

“I’ll be fine. I remember the layout of the castle. Surely I can do without you two for a short while, right?”

“I’m not worried about you getting lost, I’m worried about you running into someone dangerous. If you can’t tell friend from foe, you can get into a lot of trouble.”

“I’m a hero, right? Who would threaten me? Everyone knows me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“But - “

“Please. I’m sorry. I believe you when you say you're my best friends and all but I don’t know you right now and I’m feeling smothered. I just need a little breathing room. What can go wrong in an hour?”

“If you need us - “

“Yes, I still have my wand. Shield charm, hexes, all that. It’ll be fine. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Harry turned the corner before she could respond and walked as quickly as he could without looking like he was running away. Those two were driving him spare with their hovering. And his headache was returning just trying to remember the names of everyone they encountered. 

Something went wrong earlier in their Defence class. It landed him in the hospital wing with no memory of any person at all. Not a single name or face was familiar. A blank slate.

He could remember sitting in his classes, but not the professor that taught him, nor the students he sat with. He remembered an epic battle of flashing light and exploding stone, but not his opponents. He remembered crying at a funeral but not the person who died.

It was bizarre.

The Matron’s advice was to let him be and in two or three days, his memory would return on its own. Rushing it along only gave him headaches. Ron and Hermione had taken it upon themselves to accompany him every second of the day. 

He was sick of them. 

He rounded a corner and slammed into another body, knocking it to the ground. 

“What the fuck, Potter?” A pale blond boy sprawled on the floor in a pile of parchment and rune stones. He angrily gathered the parchment into a haphazard pile.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Harry stared, captivated by this boy. His skin was so pale. What would it look like against his darker skin? Was his hair as soft as it looked? And those lips. They were pale pink, and even pursed as they were, Harry wanted to trace along them.

In a daze, he knelt to help gather the scattered runes. Harry held them out. He sighed when the boy’s hand scraped across his palm to gather them. Heat curled in his belly.

“You should be more careful.” They stood, the boy avoiding Harry’s eyes. He started to walk away but Harry held his arm.

“Wait. Do I know you?” Harry stroked the boy’s arm, standing in close to his body.

Grey eyes narrowed in confusion and a light blush dusted his cheeks. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yeah I had an accident in class and my memory - I can’t remember anyone. Did we - are we exes?” Harry pressed closer, bumping arms and hips, his heart starting to race. He _wanted_. Wanted to lick those lips. Wanted to feel the warmth of that body on his. Was that because he used to have this boy for his own and he misses it? 

“Exes?” Harry didn’t miss the way grey eyes darted to his lips, then away.

“Yes,” Harry whispered into his ear, “did we date?” He ghosted his lips along the boy’s cheek. 

The boy gave a nervous chuckle. “We have a somewhat volatile history.”

“So if I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back or push me away?”

“I don't know,” he whispered against Harry’s lips. 

Harry pulled back to look into wide grey eyes. “Only one way to find out then.”

Moving slowly, to give him time to back away, Harry leaned in for a kiss. The boy’s lips were just as soft as they looked. He tilted his head and parted his lips, allowing Harry deeper access. Their tongues entwined, filling Harry with a warmth that was, unfortunately, not familiar. But welcome all the same. 

“You shouldn't.” The boy pushed Harry away. “When your memory returns, you’ll hate me.”

“And if I don’t, you’ll kiss me again?”

“Er, maybe? I - it’s really hard to think right now.”

Harry stepped back and the boy relaxed a fraction.

He brushed past Harry saying, “I’m Draco Malfoy. Ask around. You’ll change your mind.” 

He hitched his bag back up on his shoulder and strode off down the corridor without a backward glance. 

\--------

Harry thoughtfully poked at his potatoes. He found Draco across the Hall at the Slytherin table. Sitting alone, he was easy to spot. He nibbled at his food while reading a book, seemingly content to ignore and be ignored.

Ron and Hermione came in and took the seats across from Harry.

“Oh good, you survived without us.”

A flash of annoyance passed through him. “I’m a big boy, Hermione. Tie my own shoes and everything. I can handle an hour without you.”

“I know. I was just worried. Wouldn’t want someone to take advantage.”

He mentally rolled his eyes. “It was fine.” He piled his potatoes into a tiny tower. “Actually I did run into someone. My ex. ”

“You saw Ginny? I thought she was at quidditch practice this afternoon?” Ron glanced down the table for her.

“Er no, not Ginny,” Harry said hesitantly.

Ron looked confused. “Well the only other girl you dated was Cho but she's not here this year.”

“Oh, so not an ex then.” Harry smashed his potato tower and pushed his plate away. 

Two girlfriends didn't make him very experienced. No wonder that kiss wasn't familiar - he hadn't kissed much, and maybe never a bloke. It didn't sound like he was out yet. 

Well it was a damn good first kiss. Thinking of it warmed his blood and made his prick swell. He shifted in his seat, trying to adjust himself.

“Who was she?” 

“Dunno.” Should he mention it was not a girl? It seemed risky. With his splotchy memory, he didn’t know them well enough to predict their reaction. 

“Then how did you know she was your ex?”

“I didn’t.” He shrugged and couldn't help but grin. “It was just a guess.”

Hermione turned a bemused look on him. “What would make you guess that?”

Ron grinned widely. “She kiss you?”

Harry’s cheeks turned a faint pink and he nodded.

“Harry! You can’t go around kissing random girls!”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, mum. I promise - no kissing random girls.”

Hermione looked suspicious but went back to her food. Harry tapped the table, and continued his perusal of the Great Hall. A red haired girl plopped down next to him and began piling food on her plate.

“Practice was perfect today! We are going to trample Ravenclaw next weekend! I can’t wait!” She nudged Harry. “Heard about your accident. Any better?”

Harry looked across at Ron and Hermione, then back to the girl. “Erm, no. Still can’t remember anyone.”

“Ah, in that case, I’m Ginny. Pleased to meet you.” She grinned, showing a resemblance to Ron. She nodded in Ron’s direction. “I’m his sister.”

He looked surprised at Ron. “Your sister? I dated your sister?”

“Yup. Back in your sixth year,” she said. “We broke up because of the war. Came back as different people. So here we are, friends.” 

“You don’t seem broken up about it. We parted amicably?”

She shrugged. “It hurt, then, but we’re friends now. It’s been a while and I’m over it. Actually, I’m dating a Hufflepuff now and it’s pretty good.”

“Oh well, I’m happy for you then.”

Ron questioned her about practice, and Harry let his thoughts drift. It occurred to him that Draco was the only person set apart. Everyone else sat in groups of three or four, chatting and laughing while they ate. Was he really so bad that no one would even sit with him? 

“Who is that? Alone at the end.” He nodded in Draco’s direction. Ron and Hermione turned to look, Ginny only grimaced.

“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione said hesitantly.

“Fucking ferret,” Ron grumbled under his breath. Hermione elbowed him. “What do you want to know about him for?”

“Curious, isn’t it, that he’s the only one sitting alone? He sticks out.”

“He sits alone because he’s a git.”

“Ron!” Hermione admonished. “Harry, he’s not… a very good person. You’d best avoid him until your memory returns.”

“Really that bad?”

Ron responded, “He’s a coward and a liar that will do anything to save his own skin. Can’t trust anything he says.”

Harry glanced over at Draco again. He felt the same warm stirring in his belly and knew avoiding that boy would be impossible. “Sure. Whatever.”

Conversation ebbed and flowed around him but it was hard for Harry to pay attention. His lost memory meant none of them expected him to contribute beyond talk of their homework. He watched Draco finish his meal and prepare to leave. Harry stood, faking nonchalance, as he said his goodbyes to his watchdogs. 

“I’m off. I’ll meet you in the common room later, yeah?”

“You’re going off alone? Again? Is that wise?” Hermione frowned at him.

“Yes, mum, it’s fine. I’ll be okay. Curfew is around two hours from now. I’ll be back by then.”

He ran before she could protest further. Their concern was both heartwarming and annoying. Maybe when things returned to normal he wouldn’t care so much but for now, it was weird. Did he always spend every minute with them?

He slipped out of the Great Hall just as a blond figure turned the corner to the dungeons. He hurried to catch up, skipping steps as he went down the staircase.

Draco turned suddenly, wand out. When he saw it was Harry, he lowered his wand. “Why are you following me? Didn’t your sidekicks tell you about what a horrible person I am?”

“Sort of. They said I should stay away until my memory returns but that doesn’t sound as fun as kissing you again.” Harry stood close to him, leaning against the wall.

“You can’t kiss me! You don’t even know me.”

“I know we fought a war. That I lost people I loved.” He reached a hand out to circle Draco’s waist. “I know life is short and I should reach for what I want while I can.” He pulled Draco in, to rest between his spread legs. “I know I’m going to go to bed thinking of your lips and how sweet they taste.”

“Stop. You’ll regret this.”

“Yeah, sure. I still think it’s worth the risk. Please?” He nuzzled into Draco’s neck.

“Potter. Harry,” he whispered. “Just one. Just one kiss.”

If he was only getting one, Harry would make it worthwhile. He gently ran his lips over Draco’s. So warm. Draco opened his mouth to let Harry in. So wet. Their tongues slid together, making Harry moan. He rocked his hips to brush his growing erection against Draco. He moaned when he felt Draco’s hard cock in return. One hand slid up into the silky blond hair, the other curved around Draco’s hip to skim over his arse.

Draco dropped his wand and ran his hands up Harry’s sides, pressing him into the wall. The kiss turned frantic. Draco moaned and rocked his hips harder against Harry. 

“Wait. No. We should stop. You don’t want this.” He tried to pull away but Harry grabbed hold of his biceps, keeping him close.

“I do want this. Can’t you feel how much I want you?” He rocked his erection into Draco again.

“You want a pretty face, a fit body. You hate me.”

Harry dropped his hands, alarmed, and Draco stepped back. Is that what he was doing? Chasing a pretty face?

“Then let’s go out. Somewhere now, where we can talk. Let me get to know you and then you can kiss me again.”

“You can’t be seen with me. People will assume I’ve cursed you.”

“I’m a war hero. I can do anything I want.”

Draco looked away. “That’s just it. I’m not a war hero. I can’t do anything.” He picked up his wand, and moved past Harry to the common room door. “I fought on the wrong side. We can’t be friends.” He put his hand on the door and mumbled, “Mandrakes.” 

He disappeared before Harry could protest.

\--------

As Harry had predicted, he had a hard time falling asleep that night. He couldn’t stop reliving those kisses. He imagined that mouth in other, more intimate, places and easily brought himself off with Draco’s name on his lips. 

As he relaxed into sleep, he thought of tomorrow. He would find a way to get Draco Malfoy alone. So he would talk. And so he would kiss Harry again and again.

\--------

A quick glance down the Slytherin table showed Draco had not yet arrived for breakfast. That was probably fine. It’s not like Harry could approach him now as he had classes to get to. He just wanted to catch another glimpse.

He bolted down his breakfast and left for Charms before Ron and Hermione could flank him. Dean and Seamus followed instead. Harry mentally rolled his eyes but changed his mind when Dean and Seamus linked hands as they walked. Nice. Maybe they could give him information.

“So you two are a thing?” he began.

Seamus laughed. Dean answered, “You didn’t notice we shared a bed last night?”

“Nah, I was preoccupied. How long?”

“Mmm… dunno,” Seamus replied. “Seems like forever sometimes.”

Dean bumped shoulders with Seamus. “A few months. Since the last battle. Almost dying certainly gives you perspective.”

“No one cares?” Harry asked.

Dean stopped walking and frowned. “Why? Do you care?”

“No, just curious really. How people take that sort of thing. I don’t really remember.”

Seamus gasped. He grabbed Dean’s arm and grinned at Harry. “Holy fuck! You are gay!”

“What? Why would you guess that?” A bolt of alarm shot through Harry. Could these two even be trusted with this secret?

“You don't care but worried someone else might? On our behalf? Please.”

“Who is it?” Dean asked. “Someone here at school, right?”

“Oh damn, it’s not Ron, is it?” Seamus asked. “He will lose his shit. ”

“Stop, no. It’s not Ron.” Harry bit his lip while he considered. He did need to know more… “It's - okay, there’s this boy - “

“I knew it!”

“ - but I don’t know anything about him and he won’t tell me. Said we can’t be together until my memory comes back.”

“Nice of him not to take advantage,” Dean said.

“Yeah well, I’m still me, still mostly in my right mind. And I want… I don’t know exactly but surely a few kisses won’t hurt, right?”

Dean shrugged. “So wait it out. It’s just through the weekend, right?”

“Yes. But the wait feels - cumbersome.”

Seamus laughed and elbowed Harry. “Ha! I bet! Trousers a bit tight?”

“Shut it! I mean, I feel anxious about waiting.” 

A snort.

“Like this is my chance. If I don’t get close to him now, I’ll never be able to.”

“Who is it?” Dean asked again.

Harry shook his head. He had shared enough.

Dean looked considering. “Today we have Charms with the Ravenclaws.” He paused. “Herbology with the Hufflepuffs.” Another pause. “And Potions with the Slytherins.” 

Harry’s mouth twitched at the mention of the Slytherins.

“Harry. No.”

“What?”

“Please tell me it’s not a Slytherin.”

Harry just shrugged sheepishly.

Seamus grimaced. “Fuck.”

Dean only asked, “Which one?”

“Does it matter?”

“We can tell you what we know about him. No judging.”

Harry hesitated. He didn't know Dean or Seamus right now but they shared a House, a dorm. Surely they could be trusted. They were friendly with Ron and he was all right.

“You won’t tell anyone?” At Dean’s nod, he said, “It's Draco Malfoy.”

Seamus and Dean stared, owl-eyed. Seamus opened his mouth but Dean threw a silencing charm at him. 

“No judging.” Dean gave Harry a tight smile. “He fought on the wrong side.”

“I know that much.”

“Don't you care? People died because of him.”

“People died because of me too. _I_ died. This is my second chance at life. Surely he deserves a second chance too?” 

“He's mean, a bully. Likes to be the center of attention. He's cold. More likely to have minions than friends. That's someone you want to be with?”

“From the little I can see, he's different now. No minions or friends. Sits alone. Quiet. And,” he finished with a grin, “I've found him to be rather warm.”

Seamus glared and smacked Dean on the arm. Dean ignored him. “You kissed him already, didn't you? When?” He shook his head. “This is going to blow up big.”

“No it won't. Because you're not going to say anything.”

“Fine but be careful. Don't trust him.”

“Yeah, yeah, the big bad Slytherin. I'll be careful. I can snog and be careful, right?”

\--------

In Herbology, they were fixing the garden beds on the south side of the castle. Working in groups of two and three, they planted, weeded, and pruned. Harry worked his way around to sit next to Neville. He was another dorm mate of Harry’s and therefore probably worthy of trust. Harry had learned quickly that Neville was shy, practical, and became a badass with a sword during the war. He would give an honest opinion.

When class ended, Neville stayed back with Professor Sprout to gather their tools and clean up their work area, so Harry stayed too. As they returned to the greenhouses with tools and spare plants, Harry slowed.

“Hey Neville, can I talk to you? Alone?”

Neville lagged, letting Professor Sprout get ahead of them. “Sure, what is it?”

“I’m curious about someone and I need an honest opinion. You seem levelheaded but everyone gets angry when I bring him up.”

“Is it Malfoy?”

“What? How did you know?”

“Ron was whining about him at breakfast, and I heard Dean and Seamus arguing about him after Charms. I figured you’d brought him up since everyone is new to you and usually everyone ignores him.”

“Yeah, why is that? He’s like the only person in this castle with no friends. It’s strange. It’s - why I noticed him.”

“Before the war, he was a prick. Prince of Slytherin. His family had a lot of power and the Slytherins tripped over each other to gain his favor.”

“Dean said he was a bully.”

“Well with you it was more like rivals.”

“And after the war?”

“His dad’s in Azkaban, and his mum is on house arrest. He only came back because the Ministry didn’t know what to do with him and McGonagall said she’d look after him here at school.”

“And now he’s bottom of the pecking order.”

“Yeah. Everyone just ignores him. There were some attacks early on but McGonagall shut that down pretty quickly.”

“He doesn’t seem to mind being ignored.”

“Better than being attacked.”

“Yeah.” Harry thought for a bit. “Was he really so bad?”

“Yes.”

“So you think I should avoid him too?”

Neville stopped walking, set his box of tools down, and focused fully on Harry. “Do you remember Voldemort at all?”

“Not really. When I think of the war, it’s all fractured and broken.”

“Well he was awful. Indescribable. He was a crazy madman, hellbent on destroying the world to get what he wanted, which seemed to mainly be killing you and living forever.”

Harry shuddered. Maniacal laughter echoed in his head then faded.

“That - thing - lived at Malfoy’s house.”

“Oh.”

“Along with most of the Azkaban escapees.”

“I see.”

Neville picked up his box and continued to the greenhouse. “Malfoy was a snotty little shit for years, teasing me for all my shortcomings, which I’ll admit were extensive. But now? Now I’d forgive him almost anything because I cannot imagine what kind of hell he went through sharing a house with Voldemort and his fucking circus.”

They dropped off their boxes and said goodbye to Professor Sprout.

“The others won’t forgive him so easily,” Neville continued. “But the others also don't know what it's like to grow up the end of your family line, with all the pressures attached to it. He made bad choices but some of them weren't really choices at all for him.”

“I've heard how different we are, after the war. How things have changed. How we were all so young. They seem to apply that to everyone but Draco.”

“Well, we're all still young. And he's a convenient scapegoat. If you want to be friends with him, you have to be prepared for backlash.”

“I gathered that. But right now,” he shrugged, “having no memory means I don’t care who I offend.”

\--------

Harry watched Draco eat his lunch with meticulous care. What would happen if he went over to join him? Did people sometimes eat at a different House table? But he didn't want to scare Draco off. He'd probably have more luck getting to know him where no one could see them. 

Harry kicked Ron to get his attention. “Do you think Hermione would yell at me if I - “

“Yes.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grinned. “If you have to ask, the answer is yes.”

“Would you cover for me? For dinner?”

Ron lowered his voice, even with no one near enough to hear. “You running off with your secret girlfriend?”

“Sort of.”

“Well then, the less I know, the better.” Ron gave him a significant look as Hermione joined them. 

“I can see why we’re best mates,” Harry said with a grin.

A plan developed as he ate. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Harry looked forward to Potions.

\--------

Harry followed Ron and Hermione into the dank classroom. Harry knew that usually he sat at the back right table but he hovered for a while to consider where Draco might sit. Did he have a regular partner? Or did he usually work alone since no one liked him? Harry slowly unpacked his supplies. As students filed in and the tables filled, the possibilities shrunk.

By the time Draco came in, Harry sat on pins and needles. His eyes followed Draco’s path through the tables, gasping when he sat next to Harry without looking at him once. 

This could not be more perfect. He leaned towards Draco, pretending to look for a quill in his bag, so that he could smell Draco’s hair. Some kind of citrus. And cinnamon? Harry’s heart raced.

Professor Slughorn droned on about ingredients and brewing method. Harry tried to pay attention but he was more interested in shifting in his seat so his leg could brush Draco’s every now and again.

Abruptly Draco stood. He glanced at Harry, then away. “Ingredients.” He cleared his throat. “We need ingredients.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll just, erm - “ Harry looked around. He hadn’t paid attention enough to know what he should be doing.

“You can get the fire going under the cauldron and we’ll need the silver knives. Polish them and check for nicks.”

Harry nodded and got to work. He moved the cauldron to the end of the table so they’d be forced to stand close together as they brewed. Draco noticed immediately and gave Harry a stern look. He gritted his teeth and put his ingredients on the table.

“Here. Slice these as thin as you can.” He handed Harry some slender red reeds.

While they worked, Harry brushed against Draco whenever he could. He pretended to care what boiled in the cauldron. Pretended to need help with the dicing. Pretended to need things out of his bag. All so he could lean on Draco. Touch Draco. Smell Draco. 

His cock got hard enough to hurt but he didn’t care. This was the most fun he’d had since he lost his memory. He slipped a note into Draco’s bag before gathering his things and hurrying out. He needed to find somewhere private, and quickly, because he was going to come like the Hogwarts Express any second now.

In an empty classroom, he threw up silencing charms and shoved his clothes out of the way. On his knees, he palmed his cock, eyes closed, filled with thoughts of Draco - those sweet lips, the light blush he carried through class, the citrus and spice scent. With a groan he came, making a mess of himself and the floor. 

He cleaned up with trembling hands, straightened his clothes, and left the classroom grinning like an idiot. And with high hopes for the evening. 

\--------

The few hours between class and dinner were torturous. The initial shock of his memory loss had abated, and he had learned enough names that everyone wanted to act like they were best friends with him. 

And that meant small talk. And company. Everywhere. All the time. With so many people around the common room, he quickly learned to distinguish the meaningful conversation he could have with Ron and Hermione, despite not knowing them, against the shallow conversations he had with Dennis Creevy and Vicky Frobisher.

Despite what he said to Neville about not hurting anyone's feelings, he didn't actually want to hurt anyone's feelings. So he put on a polite smile and responded as best he could. But he was already tired of the phrase “Do you remember… ?” 

So he almost cried in relief when Ron announced that Harry had promised to help with his Charms essay, and dragged him back to their room. 

“Are they always like that?”

“Yes. Here, put your cloak on. I won't be able to get you out of the common room, but someone's bound to open the portrait and you can slip out.”

“You are the absolute best.”

“Remember that later. Good luck!”

Harry moved quickly through the common room and only had to wait a few minutes for the portrait to open. A well placed tripping jinx and the two fourth years fell back enough from the opening for him to slip by unnoticed. 

He made his way down to the kitchens where the elves had a picnic basket waiting for him. He thanked them all and carried it under his cloak until he moved far enough away from the castle. 

The quidditch stands were a perfect meeting place. They were secluded to give them privacy but open so Draco wouldn't feel trapped. 

Waiting under the Slytherin bleachers, Harry conjured some small candles for light. He transfigured one of the napkins into a blanket to sit on and began unpacking food. The house elves packed small portions of the dinner for the Great Hall, along with an array of pastries. It was simple and it was perfect. 

All he needed was Draco. 

Harry checked his watch. Only a few minutes late. Nothing to worry about. He paced a little, shaking out his hands, trying to get rid of his nervous energy. 

His note had been clear enough. Time, place, agenda. He wanted to know more about Draco, mainly in the hopes they could kiss more. Touch more. Maybe roll around on that blanket. He charmed it into a deep grey to match Draco’s eyes. He pictured Draco naked, reclining with a wicked smile. Fuck now he was hard again. 

He checked the time, nervous now that Draco wasn't coming. Harry had done as he asked - gathered intel from his friends - and he still wanted to meet. He needed this. 

Harry paced in shorter, faster circles. He shook out his hands. No use, his fingertips started to tingle. His breath came in short bursts. 

No. Not now. Focus. Breath. No panic attacks. He would be here, just a little late. 

Breath in, two, three. Out, two, three.  
In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.  
In, two, three, four, five. Out, two, three, four, five. 

Harry knelt on the blanket and focused on breathing until the panic subsided. It was fine. Or it would be. Even if Draco didn't come, this wasn't his last chance. Breathe. 

“Harry? You okay?”

“Yes!” His last deep breath left in a whoosh. “Yes, I'm fine. I was - just nervous. I'm glad you're here.”

Draco sat on the blanket, across from Harry. “Sorry I'm late. I wasn’t sure about meeting you. I turned back a few times.”

“Well I'm glad you changed your mind.” Harry handed him the plate of food he had prepared. “I did what you said, asked after you.”

“And?” Draco stared down at his plate, poking at the food with his fork.

“It wasn't great. But it wasn't awful either. It feels like there's a lot that people don't know.”

“Probably. But no one really wants to hear it either.”

“What do you want me to know?”

“Tell me about your memory first. What happened?” Draco stopped picking and began eating while Harry talked.

“I don’t remember what happened, just some bright light, then nothing. Trying to remember someone’s name or something specific that happened with someone - it’s like shadow is poured over the memory. Like I remember playing quidditch, but not who was on the team with me. When I picture the game, it’s just vague shapes on brooms.”

“What do you remember about the war?”

Harry set his own plate aside and pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around his legs. “I remember a drab tent, lots of anxiety, battles against faceless opponents. I remember gold light, green light, crying. I remember dying. But it’s like I did it all alone, against no one. I have no idea who was with me and when. It’s lonely, strange.”

“You came to my house,” Draco said, also setting his plate aside. “Snatchers brought you, Weasley, and Granger. They wanted me to identify you but I didn’t.”

“That seems like a good thing,” Harry said with a tentative smile.

Draco returned the smile. “It was. It’s what you said at my trial. It set me free.” He stretched his legs out, feet bumping Harry’s hip.

“So then you aren’t all bad, right?”

“I was. But by the end, I didn’t want _him_ to win. Only I didn’t know how to get away from it. The final battle, here, I was useless. Terrified.”

“Weren’t we all?” Harry rolled his eyes. “How many kids go skipping merrily to war?”

Draco shifted closer to Harry. Harry tried not to lean in when Draco started speaking again. “I’d lost my wand to you and was using my mother’s. Every second that battle dragged on was one more second my parents were undefended. The Dark Lord destroyed my father’s wand and she had given hers to me. I just wanted it to be over.”

Harry traced the veins on the back of Draco’s hand. “Your parents went wandless to the final battle?”

Draco nodded. “I tried to catch you, hand you over to him.”

“Tried? I assume, then, it didn’t work?”

Draco laced his fingers with Harry’s. “No, we were caught in the Room of Hidden Things. Vincent set it on fire. We almost died.” He sighed deeply. “But you saved me. Pulled me up behind you on an old broom and flew us out. I owe you my life.”

“You owe me your life but you won’t give me a few kisses?” Harry ducked his head to look into Draco’s eyes. But Draco stared off to the side.

“I don’t want to repay my life debt with sex.”

Harry caressed Draco’s cheek, turning his head to look into his eyes. “Not sex. Just a few kisses.”

“It’s not right, not when I know you hate me.”

“I saved your life. I must like you a little.” He nuzzled into Draco’s neck, grazed his ear.

“You don’t get it!” Draco’s sighed, head falling back. Then he looked at Harry, “You can’t just sit there saying things like that, looking so - “ Draco cut off with a groan as he threw himself at Harry, knocking him back on the blanket. 

Draco’s mouth sealed over his, kissing him hard and deep. Without breaking the kiss, he pulled his wand to banish their shirts. Harry moaned when skin met skin. His hands grasped at Draco’s hips, holding him tight against Harry. Draco ground down into him, while running his hands up and down Harry’s sides and back. Then he kissed and sucked his way down Harry’s neck.

“Oh fuck, please don’t stop.” Harry wanted to unbutton Draco’s trousers but he was afraid of scaring him off. Instead he grabbed his arse, and kneaded the flesh through the fabric. “More. I want more.”

“This is such a bad idea but fuck, how I want you. Always wanted you.” He began thrusting against Harry in a steady rhythm. They both moaned. Harry canted his hips to get a better angle, and brought his knee up to rest his leg against Draco’s hip.

“Yes. Oh yes.” Draco sucked hard on Harry’s neck, sending a bolt of arousal straight to his cock. His bollocks drew up tight and he _needed_ to feel Draco’s hand on his prick. Not caring about scaring him off anymore, Harry pushed Draco away to unfasten his trousers. 

“Here. Touch me. Please.” Draco hesitated but Harry pulled his hand in. Draco’s hand around his cock was a little slice of heaven. No teasing, he set up a frantic pace and kissed Harry with teeth and tongue. He growled when Harry rubbed him through his trousers.

“Oh fuck, Draco. That’s it. Perfect. Oh fuck.” In too short a time, Harry came in hot pulses over Draco’s hand. He squeezed Draco’s cock but then his hand was pushed away. Draco sat back, searching for his wand, breathing deeply.

“That was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Draco laughed. “Git. You can’t even remember half of what’s happened to you.” 

Harry felt the cleaning charm then his shirt landed on his chest. As he dressed he nodded towards Draco, “Didn’t you want me to…”

“Not this time.”

“I’m sorry if I pushed you. I know you said - “

“I know what I said. But I didn’t mean it. I would do it again.” His grey eyes looked steadily at Harry. “I still think this is a mistake. But I can only push you away for so long.”

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me? Tomorrow?”

“That’s probably not wise.”

“I don’t care. We don’t have to be all… boyfriend-y. Just as friends? Hang out with me. Eat lunch with me. Wander around and buy sweeties with me.”

“And your other friends?”

“They won’t care. I’m a hero, remember? I can do anything I want.”

Draco opened his mouth but Harry spoke over him, “Anything I want. And I want to be friends with you. More than friends, but just friends for now.”

Draco bit at his lip but nodded his head. Harry smiled and pulled him in for a hug. It was comforting and warm. He kissed Draco’s cheek with a loud smack and they both laughed.

Settling back on the blanket, they ate and talked for the next hour. Harry laughed when Draco made their shoelaces dance a ballet. Harry charmed some rocks to tap out an accompaniment. Funny and sweet, Draco managed to talk to Harry without pressing against his lost memory. 

As curfew approached, Harry brushed grass off his hands and stood. “Help me gather this up and we can head back. I’m sure Hermione is ready to send out a search party.”

Draco waved his wand to repack the basket. Harry shook out the blanket, then transfigured it back into a napkin. He carried the basket as they walked back to the castle. They didn’t talk but it was a comfortable kind of silence, warmed by the occasional brushing of their fingers.

\--------

Harry floated on a cloud as he made his way back to the common room. He couldn’t stop the grin on his face, not that he tried. He couldn’t remember being so happy and he didn’t care that it was because his memory was half gone. He knew this evening was special, and that he’d treasure it forever.

He considered putting his invisibility cloak back on but didn’t want to wait on someone else entering the common room. Also, he was a grown man, mostly, and allowed to go where he wanted. Until curfew. Ugh, school was stupid and he couldn’t wait to leave. Why did he come back in the first place? Although Draco was here so it wasn’t all bad…

“Harry James Potter! Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you!”

Oh right, Hermione. His lost memories about why he came to school probably had to do with her. No one liked school more than she did.

He sighed. “I’m fine! Look, I survived unscathed!” He held his hands out and twirled, for inspection, but this was a mistake, with his misbuttoned shirt, messy hair, swollen lips, and probably hickeys on his neck.

“You were with that girl again? How could you? I told you she might be dangerous!”

“Relax! It was fine. Better than!” He grinned, she scowled. “Honestly, you’re worse than my mum with all the worrying.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Hermione gawked at him and brought a hand to her mouth to smother a choked sound. “No, you’re right. It’s just habit, after last year, to worry about you. I’m sorry if I was overstepping.” She moved to the table to gather her books with shaky hands. 

Harry gave her an awkward half hug. She looked like she needed it but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. She had no such qualms, almost cracking a rib with her exuberance. 

“You're in for the night?” At his nod, she continued, “Ron went upstairs to get his things for the Charms essay but never came back. Tell him I’ve gone to bed.” Without looking at him, she hurried to the stairs for the girls dorm.

“Goodnight!” he hollered after her. She waved as she turned the corner.

Just outside his door he paused. He could hear indistinct yelling inside. He opened the door slowly just in time to hear, “We can’t let Harry fuck Draco Malfoy!”

Harry slammed the door against the wall. All four of his roommates startled at his appearance.

“So, what did I miss?”

Ron and Seamus looked at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but at Harry. Dean looked to Neville so Neville spoke up first.

“We sort of, accidentally, pooled our information and then started arguing about it.”

“I see. So the things you all agreed to keep secret, you instead shared between you.”

“It sort of snowballed. I wanted to know where you were, Ron hinted you were with a girl, Seamus hinted it was a boy, and then suddenly, yelling about Malfoy.”

Harry tossed his cloak into his trunk. “I can’t believe you guys - talking about me behind my back? Or maybe this is normal and I just don’t remember? I thought you all were my friends.” Rage simmered under his skin. Was there no one he could talk to safely here?

“We are your friends,” Dean sighed. “That’s why we’re trying to look out for you.”

Seamus bit out, “Draco fucking Malfoy is a useless piece of shit trying to use you for his own ends.”

“Well I like him! He's sexy and funny! And if you were my friends,” Harry glared, “you wouldn’t be sharing my secrets and trashing my - whatever he is.”

“Harry, we just wanted - “

“I don’t care what you wanted. Right now I can’t remember anything so all I care about is what I want. And right now, I can’t tell your truths from your lies so I don’t want to talk to any of you. I’m going to bed so I can relive the best date I’ve ever had. Fuck you all and I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Harry stomped to his bed, drew the curtains and threw up silencing charms. He forced out thoughts of his so-called friends and focused instead on his picnic dinner with Draco. He held tight to the afterglow of good food, great company, and a phenomenal orgasm. He slept peacefully until morning.

\--------

Harry avoided his dorm mates in the morning. He braced himself for malicious whispers and gossip in the Great Hall but no one seemed to be talking about him. Apparently they’d only talked among themselves. Fine, point in their favor. But he was still mad.

To add insult to injury, Draco never showed for breakfast. Harry lingered as long as he could, chatting with Hermione about things he pretended to remember, ignoring Ron as best he could. But eventually he had to move on with the day. They would be meeting in a few hours for Hogsmeade anyway.

Until then, Harry had the morning free. Ron went off with Seamus and Dean to avoid Harry. Hermione wanted to finish up some homework in the library, and that seemed as good a plan as any. It turned into the best plan when they entered the library and saw Draco working at a corner table.

“C’mon, let’s go sit over there.”

“With Malfoy? Why would we do that?” Hermione walked to a table on the opposite side of the library.

“Because he’s my friend now and I want to sit with him.”

She paused in unpacking her books from her ever-present beaded bag. “Since when are you two friends?”

Ron hadn’t told her about his date with Draco. Fine, another point in his favor. Maybe he really was Harry’s best mate. “Since yesterday. C’mon, he’s funny and clever, and he probably has the book you need.”

“He does not!” she said, rolling her eyes with a giggle. 

“Sure he does,” he smiled at her. “There’s about twenty at that table, surely you need one of them.”

“Harry, please be serious. I’m not sitting at a table with Draco Malfoy!” She pulled parchments, quills, and ink from her bag, passing a set over to him.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a terrible person and he brings up bad memories. I was tortured in his house!”

Harry stared, perplexed. “You were? No one told me that.”

“Courtesy of his aunt. Did anyone mention his role in the Death Eaters at Hogwarts? That in trying to kill Dumbledore, he also almost killed Ron and Katie Bell?”

Harry shook his head at mention of wartime activities and people he didn’t know. “That was then. He’s different now.”

“Harry, you probably don’t remember that I don’t normally like foul language but in this instance I have to say, _are you fucking kidding me_? I tell you he tried to kill a man and you say no big deal?”

Harry rubbed at his temples. “I don’t know, I mean I killed a man, right? I just know that I like him and I want to be his friend and I can’t remember anything and it’s really hard to balance all the things people say to me.” He shook his hands and rubbed his temples again. “He was nice to me yesterday. Clever, charming. I liked it.”

“Harry,” she said quietly. Harry shook his head hard. 

He rested his head on his hands, trying to breath deep. Focus. Breath in. Breath out. He rocked in his chair until the tingling in his fingers became too painful to sit still. He shot to his feet. “I can’t stay here. I have to go. I’ll meet you on the front steps at noon.”

He ran from the library, up and down corridors and staircases until his breath burned in his lungs. He collapsed in an empty classroom, staring at the ceiling while the tingling faded and his breathing returned to normal.

His head pounded from the ups and downs of the past twenty-four hours. Why weren’t things simpler? Why couldn’t he just like a boy? Why couldn’t he just like _that_ boy? Why did the universe hate him? Why didn’t he have someone he could trust to talk to? All the facts and opinions jumbled in a nonlinear mess he couldn’t untangle. Wasn’t there anyone that could give it to him straight?

With his head throbbing, he left the classroom and returned to his dorm. He would write a letter to his parents. Even if he couldn’t get a reply in time, it might help him get his thoughts together. 

Just his fucking luck, all four idiots were back in the room. Didn’t they have somewhere better to be? He ignored them as he went to his trunk for materials. He sat on his bed, conjured a mini desk to write on, and thought about what he wanted to say.

He wrote about his memory loss. How hard it was to think with big gaps in his recall. How he met - did his parents know he was gay? He mentally shrugged. He met a boy. When they were alone, this boy was perfect. Intelligent, funny, gorgeous. Affectionate, he thought with a smile. But with others, he was cold, quiet, impassive. He let no one in and so no one could allow he might be different, changed by a war that changed them all.

He wrote that he needed more information on the situation. And about how hard it was to sort all the disjointed bits he got from everyone. He would try to be patient and reevaluate when his memory returned. Until then, he’d get to know the boy better and, he did not add, snog him as much as possible. It was a good plan. Well, it was a workable plan.

He signed off, sealed it, then dug through his trunk looking for an address to send it to. Nothing. All this junk and he didn’t save a single letter from his parents?

“Hey,” he looked up, “I need my parents’ address.”

“What?”

“An address. For my parents. So I can send them a letter.” He waved said letter in case it wasn’t obvious.

The four of them just looked at each other. Finally Ron cleared his throat, “Erm, mate, your parents are… “ He trailed off and looked at Neville.

Neville sighed. “Your parents are dead, Harry. They died when you were a baby.”

“Oh.” It felt like a punch to the gut. No parents. An orphan. He was an orphan. “So who raised me?”

“Your mother’s sister. Petunia. She has a husband, Vernon, and a son, Dudley. They’re muggles. Not really comfortable with magic at all.”

“Okay. I guess that explains why no one came to see me after the accident.” His chest tightened and his fingers began to tingle. Not another one. Two attacks in one day. Fuck. He looked down at the letter in his hand. He focused on it, until it burst in a tiny shower of flames. Ashes fell to the floor. “I need some air.”

“Harry - “ But it didn’t matter what they had to say. He left before he had to listen to anyone offer false comfort.

Harry took the stairs at a run for the second time in as many hours. Tears burned in his eyes and he knew great gasping sobs would soon follow. No parents, annoying friends, lusting after a boy everyone hated, memory gone, and now crying and panic. He burst out of the front doors, through the courtyard past some milling students, and over the grounds until he reached the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. 

He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t fair. He tugged his hair and rocked himself. Not fair. He had nothing. No one. Sobs choked him.

Arms came around him and a warm chest pressed against his back. The scent of citrus and spice surrounded him.

“Draco.”

“It’s okay Harry, I’ve got you.”

Harry turned in his arms, crawling in his lap so he could hug him harder. He stuttered through the tears, “I forgot… forgot I was... an orphan.”

“Oh. Harry I’m so sorry.”

“I have… no one. And they still… still won’t let me... have you.”

“You have me. I’m here with you now, aren’t I?”

Draco held him until the sobs became occasional shudders. Harry sat back and used his shirt, then his wand, to clean up. He crawled out of Draco’s lap, embarrassed. Draco took hold of his hand.

“At first, not remembering was fun. A lark. I could do anything, be anything and it didn’t matter. But now I just feel trapped by what I don’t know. I just want to be happy. I deserve to be happy, right? I killed a man. I don’t remember how or what he did but I know that he died by my hand. They say that makes me a hero but I don’t feel it. I just feel sad all the time. And I want to be happy.”

Draco stroked his cheeks and into his hair. He brushed noses with Harry, then brought him in for a soft kiss. Harry grasped him like a lifeline, pulling Draco over him as he lay back on the grass. 

Draco’s mouth was more familiar now, comforting and warm. Harry ran his hands down Draco’s back, then up into his hair. 

“More?” 

Draco nodded and slid his hands up Harry’s belly, pushing his shirt up with it. Harry lifted so the shirt could come off. Draco’s hands were gliding slowly all over his torso, his belly and ribs, pinching lightly at his nipples. That tickled so he brushed the hands back to his sides. They slid lower, over his arse, making him moan.

The slow pace was agonizing, yet sweet. Harry was coming undone with the gentle care of Draco’s mouth and hands on his skin. When soft lips kissed around his belly button, and clever fingers undid his button and zip, he couldn’t bring himself to protest, despite the lack of privacy. And when Draco’s mouth covered his cock, he couldn’t hold back a deep moan. Heat built, moment by moment, so slowly, so carefully, that he came like tipping over a waterfall - gentle and slow, then a hard rush of heat and pleasure. It cascaded out to the tips of his fingers and toes, making his whole body contract.

He tugged on Draco’s hair to pull him up Harry’s body. Harry kissed him hard, still trembling with the aftershocks. The kiss tasted of a perfect blend of himself and Draco. He pushed Draco onto his back, to return the favor, but Draco scrambled away.

“We can’t. We might be seen.”

Harry smiled. “So it’s okay for me to get caught with my dick out, but not you?”

“You can do anything you want, remember? That includes getting Death Eaters to blow you.” He huffed a little laugh, as though he’d made a joke. Harry’s stomach dropped, like he’d accidentally murdered a baby unicorn. He had done it again, pushed Draco too far. 

Harry backed away, getting his clothes back together with shaky hands. “Yeah, sure. Thanks then. Sorry if you didn’t want… “ He waved vaguely, and started to walk towards the castle.

“Harry, wait, I didn’t mean it like that.” Draco reached for him but Harry avoided his grasp.

“It’s fine, I get it. Just offering comfort, right? Paying back your life debt maybe? It’s fine. I’m just gonna go. I think I need to be alone.”

“Harry, no. Wait, please.”

Harry sent a light incarcerous to Draco’s legs. It would keep him busy for a while, and out of Harry’s way. He stumbled back to the castle, taking refuge in a hidden collapsed tunnel. No one would think to look for him here. 

His thoughts skittered over his broken memories, trying to find order, or where it all went wrong. Yesterday had been mostly amazing. And this day had started with such promise. No classes, no homework, no obligations. Just a fun day with a sexy bloke. Drinks, sweets, maybe flying and snogging. 

Instead, here he was alone with a pounding headache and no one to trust. Guilt gnawed at him. He hadn't been kind to Draco, pushing him for more than he wanted to give. Tying him up wasn't great either. Draco was the only person making Harry happy and he had bollocksed it up. 

All of it hurt too much. The half truths, the lost memories. 

He lay on the stone floor, curled in a ball. He wanted to cry again but he still felt wrung out from earlier. 

He focused on the broken stone in front of him so he didn’t think of anything at all. Not his lost parents, the friends he didn’t recognize, the boyfriend he almost had. Not the kisses, the touches, the intimacy that might be one sided. 

The chill seeped into his bones, making his body tremble. He set a warming charm but that only just took the edge off. What a terrible hiding place. He should go to the kitchens with food and a fire. But he couldn’t bear to move.

A glowing otter appeared, and scolded him in Hermione’s voice, “Where are you? We’re waiting.”

He tried to summon his happy memories to cast his patronus for a message back but apparently they all involved people. Riding his first broom? Catching his first snitch? Those were solitary moments. But they, too, were clouded. All the people he loved that would celebrate his victory - they cast a pall over the memory that he couldn’t shake.

He was going to have to find Hermione to tell her in person that he didn’t want to see anyone. Oh the irony.

He dragged himself to his feet and out of the tunnel. Barely lunch time and he already wished for bedtime. That’s what he would do when he shook off Hermione, return to bed.

Hermione and Ron were sitting on the front steps waiting for him, bundled up against the cool weather, exchanging sweet kisses and smiles. A stab of jealousy only worsened his mood.

“I’m not going to Hogsmeade.”

They sprang apart and hurried to their feet.

“Harry! There you are! I was - “

“Worried, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t have a good morning and I’m just going to go back to bed. I think that’s best, until my memory returns. The gaps are just making me miserable.”

“I don’t want to leave you here to mope. Please come with us. We’ll have lunch at the Three Broomsticks and visit George and Angelina.”

“I don’t remember George and Angelina. I don’t remember anyone and the not knowing is driving me mad. Please just go without me.”

Harry jumped at a posh voice saying, “I’ll go with you.” He frowned. How had Draco found him?

Draco came to a stop near Harry, nodding at Ron and Hermione. “I knew I'd find you here eventually.” He took Harry’s hand and repeated, “I’ll go with you to Hogsmeade.”

“I don’t want to go with you. I can’t.” Harry pulled his hand away, and looked at his feet. He wouldn’t push Draco anymore.

Draco darted a glance at Ron’s stern face and Hermione’s angry one. “I’m sorry for earlier.” He pulled Harry out of earshot and whispered, “I’m not sorry about what happened, only about what I said. I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”

Harry shrugged Draco’s hand off. “How did you mean it? How else could I have interpreted that?”

“I like you. A lot. Have for a while.” Draco kicked at the ground. He looked at Harry. “But right now, it’s all strange. This is just as new for me as it is for you, only I have a memory and you don’t. You have to allow me my anxiety over public opinion. And your possible reaction when your memory returns.” He reached for Harry, keeping his eyes on their joined hands. “If I just do for you, then no harm done if you should hate me again.”

“I’m not going to spend the day with you if you’re just going to make me feel like shit for wanting you.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Just lunch and then I’m coming right back. I can’t handle more people I don’t know telling me shit I don’t want to hear.”

“Yes, sounds good.”

Harry stalked off, leaving Draco, Ron, and Hermione to catch up. No one said anything as they walked, but Harry noticed Ron and Hermione keeping their distance from Draco. Harry took his hand, unsure if it was for comfort or to be contrary.

At the Three Broomsticks, Madam Rosmerta approached their table, frowning at Draco. She smiled at Harry. “Harry, dear, it’s been an age since you were in here. How are things?”

Harry pasted on a false smile. “I’ve lost my memory. So it’s been miserable. Although from what I hear, life hasn’t exactly been sunshine and roses for me so maybe it’s just par for the course.”

An awkward silence settled until she said, “I see, well I’ll just bring you something to perk you up.” 

Harry tapped at the table and jiggled his leg until he felt Draco’s hand on his thigh. “Sorry. I’m nervous.” He scrubbed at his face and sighed. “What do we normally do in town? I know there’s a sweets shop. A joke shop, too, right?”

Hermione cleared her throat. “Yes. Zonko’s. George and Angelina own a shop on Diagon Alley, and have also opened a second shop here. George is Ron’s brother. We can stop in and see them if you’d like.”

“Thank you, but I’ll pass this time. I already regret coming here. Everyone is staring.”

“Well, you’re famous. And…” Hermione looked at Draco, then away.

Madam Rosmerta came back with four glasses of beer and a basket of chips for them to share. “Are you wanting something more to eat? There’s shepherd’s pie today.”

Ron nodded, “That would be great. Four please.”

Everyone sipped at their beers. Harry had a hard time keeping his body still. He took Draco’s hand under the table. He gave it a squeeze and was reassured by a return squeeze, but it didn't stop his jittery feeling. The silence lay awkward and thick. 

“Gin says Gryffindor is set to beat Ravenclaw next weekend. What do you think?”

“I think I can’t remember who even plays on the team, Hermione hates quidditch, and Draco isn’t going to say a single negative thing about Gryffindor while sitting at a table with three Gryffindors.”

Harry pushed his beer away. “This was a mistake. I can’t do this. Everyone is looking at me and I don’t recognize anyone. I can’t stay here.” Harry abruptly pushed away from the table and stood. The others also stood, uncertain.

A tap on his shoulder made Harry jump. He pulled his wand and turned, a hex ready on his lips. Seamus. It was only Seamus. “I can’t stay here.” With a parting glance at the others, Harry ran from the pub.

His head throbbed, his blood ran hot, and his skin crawled. He wanted to run, to yell, to scratch his skin off. He headed back up the road to the castle. Was he going to spend the whole day running away? 

“Harry!” Draco had followed him. That had to mean something, right? He hadn’t ruined everything between them. Harry slowed for him to catch up.

“Can I walk you back?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’m sorry about back there. I couldn’t handle it. I guess all of Hermione’s warnings about someone dangerous finally struck a chord. All those eyes on me made my skin crawl.”

“Yes, I can sympathize. Come along, we’ll find somewhere with no prying eyes.”

Draco detoured them to the Shrieking Shack. They broke in and found some bedding that could be cleaned and transfigured into a little nest to snuggle up in. Draco cheered him with ridiculous “what if” stories. What if they had beaks instead of nose and mouth? What if they could spit fire like a dragon? What if chocolate was better for you than broccoli? What if school robes were chartreuse? What if they were the only two people in the world and every day could be just like now?

What if they had brought food with them so they could stay longer? 

They returned to the castle and parted ways for dinner. Harry went to the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey ordered him a tray, and let him stay the night. He couldn’t handle his dorm mates and their sympathy.

Harry begged a sleeping draught off Madam Pomfrey and asked her to hide him. He curled up under the covers of his hospital bed while she enclosed the space with partitions. She gave him a pat on the shoulder and assured him she would keep everyone out. 

Harry fell into a deep sleep.

\--------

Harry yawned and looked around, disorientated. Oh right, the hospital wing. He remembered the disastrous morning, the paranoia in the Three Broomsticks, the Shrieking Shack, and the sleeping draught. He looked out the window to see it was still nighttime, although he didn’t know how late. 

He couldn’t bring himself to care. He lay back in the bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling calm and relaxed. The long sleep had helped, and he felt more comfortable in his skin. For once the excess energy he felt was ready for healthy activity, rather than just nervous panic.

A perfect time for night flying.

He left a note for Madam Pomfrey and tiptoed out of the infirmary. The castle was eerie at night, but it didn’t matter. Harry left it all behind as he ran for the quidditch pitch. His own broom being too far away, he borrowed one of the nicer school brooms.

The night air was frigid but welcome as he flew in loops and turns around the quidditch pitch. Harry felt the last of the cobwebs blow away in his mind. 

And he remembered.

The war, the depression, coming back to school, the accident.

Draco.

He landed with a rolling tumble on the grass. He lay panting, staring at the brilliant array of stars. He remembered Draco.

\--------

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual fervor for breakfast. There was a profound lull as Harry came in and headed for the Slytherin table instead of the Gryffindor one.

Draco, as usual, sat at one end alone. He watched Harry approach with trepidation. Murmuring rose as Harry sat across from him but faded to nothing when Harry set privacy wards around them.

They stared silently at one another for nearly a whole minute.

“I remembered.”

Draco’s eyes widened, then dropped to his plate.

“I remembered that I killed a man. Not just killed him, I crushed each part of his soul until there was nothing left. Then I killed him.”

Harry waited until Draco looked at him before continuing.

“I remember being so depressed over the summer that I could hardly get out of bed. I barely ate, rarely slept. Just stared at the ceiling wishing I had it in me to die again. Hermione dragged me here to try and force life back into me.”

Harry reached across the table. His thumb traced circles on Draco’s hand. Draco gave him a gentle squeeze.

“I remember coming back here, and seeing you. You were different. And I felt alive and real for the first time since May. Every time I saw you, I wanted more of you. Needed to feel your skin, your body surround me. It consumed me, kept me going day after day. But we - we had our history…”

Harry heaved a deep sigh. He ran his hand through his hair. He looked down at his empty plate and fiddled with his fork. 

“I remember being in class and another panic attack was coming on. I couldn’t handle the bright light, the sounds. It all made me feel like I was crawling out of my skin. And I wanted everything to be different. I thought if only I could forget what came before, I could be free to take what I wanted.”

Harry rested his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths. Draco’s legs came forward to press on either side of his legs. A sweet comfort.

“I remember gathering the spells in the room to shield me and distract them while I cast the shadows on my memories so I would be a blank slate. So I could wake up free from everyone and all their expectations. I could pursue a boy and no one would care. I locked up all of it except my desire for you.”

Draco whispered, “You did it to yourself?”

He looked at Draco again with a sad half smile.

“I didn’t think about how I might be different while everyone else was the same. Or how you might react to me. I didn’t consider my panic attacks and how hard it would be to function with no memory. It was stupid. Dangerous. But I needed it. Needed to be different, feel different.”

He took Draco’s hands again. Tears burned in his eyes but he blinked them away.

“I would do it again. Even with those awful feelings yesterday, I would still do it again because being with you is the happiest I’ve ever been. I don’t care that we were childhood rivals, that you fought on the wrong side. I care that you survived. That you’re not just going through the motions like I am, but really living.”

Harry stood, breaking the wards around them. 

“I have nightmares and panic attacks. I struggle to get out of bed every morning. It’s a lot to take on. And I don’t want you feeling you’re responsible for my mental health.” Harry glanced around the Hall, at the hundreds of faces staring. “We won’t have it easy. But if you’re willing, I still want you. I remember and I still want you.”

Harry turned away but Draco grabbed his arm before he could leave. “Don’t go. Stay with me.” 

Draco came around the end of the table to wrap his arms tight around Harry. As murmurs in the Hall rose, Draco whispered in his ear, “Stay with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I abhor when movies/books imply that if a person with mental health issues only had someone to love, things would be fine (I'm looking at you "Silver Linings Playbook"). A support team of friends and family is definitely essential in mental health recovery but it takes more than that. I do *not* mean to imply that Harry will get better simply because he has Draco. But with Draco as part of his support team, it's more manageable for Harry.


End file.
